


your eyes whispered, "have we met?"

by reybencyera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (and has never been in a home depot), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo is a Mess, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Poor Armitage Hux, Rey (Star Wars) is Nobody, Rey is sad, Soft Ben Solo, ben said no talk me angy, gardener rey, idk how to tag so deal with it, jailbird ben solo, just doing his job smh, she relates to tomatoes experiencing hardships, she's so important to me, warning: author knows nothing of gardening beyond what an article told her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reybencyera/pseuds/reybencyera
Summary: “Dude, why did you do that?!”“You were crying…” his eyes were still trained downward.“So?”“I— I’m— I just assumed that he had said something that hurt you.”She huffed out a breath of frustration. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not some damsel in distress. We’re strangers. You don’t know me.”“But I… I feel like I do.”⚘⚘⚘Inspired by this prompt by @gosh_ray on Twitter: "Rey breaking down crying in Home Depot as employee Hux explains the heat stress on her cherry tomatoes. Stranger Ben doesn’t know what’s going on, sees a pretty girl crying, & straight up punches Hux in the nose. Pandemonium ensues, & long story short, Rey bails Ben out of jail."
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 28
Kudos: 98
Collections: Galactic Idiots Collection





	your eyes whispered, "have we met?"

**Author's Note:**

> hello to everyone but especially fran (@galacticidiots), whose magical life inspired this story. seriously: go follow her, you won't regret it.
> 
> anyway, hope you guys enjoy this thing i wrote in one night lol.

Rey distractedly turned her A/C up another notch, bringing her hand up to wipe away the sheen of sweat that had gathered on her forehead.

Jakku was having a particularly hot summer as it was— which sure was saying something; their little Nevadan town had a reputation for being both dry and boiling almost year-long— but the heat index today was record-breaking. 

She didn’t like the sweltering heat. It brought back too many bad memories. Memories of two vaguely parental figures telling her, “ _Sit right here, Rey. We’ll be back soon_.” Memories of sitting on a bus bench for hours— turning down strangers’ offers of help, perspiration running down her young, malnourished body and soaking through her Dora the Explorer T-shirt. Memories of them never coming back.

Shaking herself slightly, Rey made herself move past her ruminations. After all this time she should know that dwelling on the past would do nothing but harm. Instead, she went back to her previous train of thought— the state of her beloved cherry tomatoes. 

She’d taken up gardening at the end of May that year, hoping for a hobby that would get her mind off the relentless humdrum of her life. She currently only had a few plants— some vegetables and fruits she preferred not to have to buy at the grocery store and an assortment of her favorite flowers— but she was already extremely dedicated to the activity. It was nice, the feeling of nurturing new life as it sprouted from the ground. Plus, her little botanical friends almost succeeded in staving off her loneliness. Almost.

But in the last few days, she’d been quite worried about her cherry tomatoes. They hadn’t been ripening as they should and she was worried that she was doing something wrong. From what she’d read online, the high temperature was the likeliest cause of their hindered growth. She couldn’t stand to see the poor dears fail, and so she was currently headed to the local Home Depot to purchase some shade covers for them. 

After arriving, she pushed the cool metal cart to the garden center and rang the bell that would alert whatever employee was near that she was waiting there. 

A few moments later, a man with a sallow expression and a head of distinctive red hair came behind the counter. 

“How can I help you today?” he asked, sounding bored. 

“Hello—,” she paused to read his name tag, “Armitage. I've been attempting to grow some cherry tomatoes and lately, with the heat and all, they haven’t been growing as well as I want. I was wondering if you all had shade covers of some sort?”

“Of course,” he answered briskly. “They’re just in that aisle over there.”

He gestured vaguely and she nodded her head confusedly, convinced she would _probably_ be able to find them herself. 

“Oh, and miss?”

She turned back around. 

“You seem knowledgeable enough about all this, but I must stress the importance of keeping your cherry tomatoes cool.”

“Why’s that?” She stared at him a bit sullenly, still put off by his initial rudeness. 

“Well, first of all, heat stress is extremely detrimental to the plant’s ability to pollinate. That means—,”

“I know what that means.” She interjected. 

“— that your plant will produce less fruit. Parent cherry tomatoes can’t properly produce _baby_ cherry tomatoes unless their internal and external conditions are correct.”

_Oh._ That was maybe, just a little, too close to home. 

“Along with that, the more intense the heat, the faster the plant has to pump water through its system. The increase in transpiration can leave the plant vulnerable to diseases, pests, you name it. They have to use all their energy just to _survive_ , to avoid burning to death in the heat, so reproducing is practically unthinkable—,”

At this point, Rey was sure she felt something like tears begin to well up in her eyes. And... well, it was so _stupid,_ the man was talking about _cherry tomatoes_ , and yet something about it pulled on her heartstrings. Those unfortunate creatures, barely able to persevere through the heat, doing whatever they could to survive and having to put everything else to the side… it just _hurt_ for some reason. 

A tear coursed its way down her cheek and finally, this Armitage bloke stopped his panegyric. He gaped at her open-mouthed for a second, looking at the absolute _freak_ who cried over _miniature vegetables._

All of a sudden, a few very important things happened at once. 

Armitage began to say something that sounded suspiciously like “why”. She turned to the side, attempting to escape his judging stare. 

A split second later, a fist came flying out of nowhere and knocked Armitage to the ground. 

Rey let out a yelp, darting behind the counter and checking to make sure this hapless, likely underpaid Home Depot employee hadn’t been irreparably damaged. She crouched down and fanned some air on him, not quite sure what to do. His eyes fluttered back open slowly. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she stood back up to face whoever had delivered the blow. 

“What the fu—,” she abruptly halted. 

Standing in front of her was, to put it simply, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. All six-whatever of him stood rigidly, strong features pulled into a glare at the man who was still on the floor beside her. His dark ( _pretty,_ her mind hummed nonsensically) eyes held a sort of stern intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. It took her a moment to remember why she was mad at him. 

“Dude, why did you _do_ that?!”

“You were crying…” his eyes were still trained downward. 

“So?”

“I— I’m— I just assumed that he had said something that hurt you.”

She huffed out a breath of frustration. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not some damsel in distress. We’re strangers. You don’t know me.”

“But I… I feel like I do.”

And _wow,_ that _really_ shouldn’t have made her tummy flop. This guy was obviously some hyper-masculine jerk who thought he could go through life fighting delicate, defenseless women’s battles for them. 

_Yet_ …

Maybe what he’d said was creepily phrased, but she couldn’t deny that _she felt it too_. Some sensation as though she’d seen him before, an extremely intimate sort of déjà vu. Looking up at him warily, she sank back down on her heels to help Armitage back to his feet, his arm slung around her shoulder. 

“What’s your name?” She asked tersely. 

“Ben Solo.”

She held out her free hand. 

“Rey Niima.”

He stretched his out gingerly and clasped hers, and— _holy moly_ — maybe _she_ was the one who had been punched into a stupor, because she was pretty sure cheesy romance novels were the only places where one's body felt electrified at the simple brush of fingertips. 

And yet here they were, both looking wonderstruck as they held eye contact for a length of time most would consider _slightly_ too long. He was the first to drop his gaze, begrudgingly hauling Armitage against his side. 

“There!”

They both turned their heads to find a middle-aged woman with an unfortunately fussy hairdo pointing straight at Ben. A moment later, one of the store’s security officers jogged toward them briskly and apprehended him. 

He didn’t protest as they led him away, but Rey definitely did. After lowering Armitage to the ground gently and making sure another officer would take care of him, she ran along behind them. 

⚘⚘⚘

When he was in grade school, Ben’s teacher had once read his class a book entitled _Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day._ He resonated with Alexander, as the past 29 years of his life had often seemed like nothing more than a collection of unfortunate events strung together.

Never had he felt it more keenly than he did today, locked in a cell at Jakku’s run-down jail. He was sure his mother would be here shortly, and he’d have to bear her condescending words, her admonishments that _a city council member can’t have a son who can’t keep from punching someone every time he gets angry._ He would take it, waiting until after Leia had dropped him off at his apartment to scream into his pillow at the events that had led him to meeting, and subsequently ruining any chances he had with, the woman he was certain was the love of his life. 

God, he was so melodramatic. At least he’d never claimed to be otherwise. 

“Alright kid,” the cop knocked against the bars and began to unlock the door, seeming unconcerned by the way Ben flinched as he was dragged from his thoughts. “You’ve been bailed out.”

Ben didn’t bother asking who had done it, simply sighing and allowing himself to be escorted out. He lifted his eyes up, grimacing at what was sure to be a disappointed expression on Leia’s face, and—

And there she was. The girl he’d been thinking so much about. The one he’d taken that idiot at Home Depot down for. 

_Rey._

⚘⚘⚘

She looked at him apprehensively in her peripheral vision, not sure if she had crossed a line. They hadn’t said anything after he’d first seen her and now, sitting outside the county jail in her beat-up Nissan, the silence was creating a thick cloud of tension around them. 

Ben stared out the front window, stone-faced. 

She took a steadying breath. “I— I’m sorry. I completely understand if that was too forward or something, I just felt obligated to—,”

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise. I’m just wondering… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you do it? From the impression I got at the store, I was pretty sure you hated me.”

“Well, Ben, I mean— you knocked someone to the ground with one punch. I was startled. And a bit offended that you thought I needed saving. Mostly just confused as to _why_ you thought I needed saving.”

“I told you, I thought he’d said something to upset you…”

“That’s sweet but— God, there’s got to be healthier ways to channel that anger.”

“There are.” He surprised her by agreeing. “Something about you just made me lose my head, I guess.”

He was blushing almost as much as she was. Rey lost herself in thought and Ben seemed to wait in anticipation for what her next words would be. 

“About what you said back there, about feeling like you know me?”

Ben rubbed his neck sheepishly, opening his mouth to say something, though he didn’t know what. Rey beat him to it. 

“I,” she exhaled loudly, “I feel that way too. I don’t know why. We’ve barely said, what? Thirty words to each other. But it feels like I’ve always known you, like I somehow know exactly who you are without ever having had a full conversation with you.”

He nodded silently, his features contorting themselves into an expression similar to a hopeful puppy who wanted its head scratched. 

“But I have a few conditions if we’re going to… continue this thing— whatever it is. Our acquaintance.”

“Anything,” he breathily replied, head turned to hers and long torso tilted her way. 

“First, we’re going to go back to Home Depot and make sure that Armitage fellow is alright. He might have been a prick but he didn’t deserve to be punched for it.” She glared at him sternly. 

“Then, we’re going to go into the garden center and you’re going to buy some shade covers for my cherry tomatoes. I know you’re rich, your watch is probably worth my entire monthly paycheck.”

He rolled his eyes at that, huffing out a humorless laugh. 

“Finally, we’re going to get in your probably way-too-expensive car and you can take me on a real date to apologize.”

He smiled at her from the passenger seat. “I think I can swing that.”

“Good.” She glared ahead as she put the car in reverse, maneuvering them out of the parking lot. When they got onto the open road, she took her right hand from the wheel and placed it securely in his, wanting to feel those sparks race across her skin once again. 

“You know,” he intoned sardonically, bringing her hand up to his mouth to give it a chaste kiss that made her nearly gasp in surprise, “you should probably keep both hands on the wheel. Wouldn’t want both of us to end up in the pen on the same day.”

  
“Oh, _shut up_ ,” she exclaimed, whacking him on the side of his lovely, infuriating head.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you SO much for reading. i'm on twitter @reybencyera if you wanna follow. comments are very much appreciated. 💞
> 
> (p.s. tomatoes are considered vegetables by nutritionists, so don't @ me)


End file.
